Angel Eyes
by jaepdbt
Summary: Oops! Repost. My first fic. After an AU-Grave, a morose Buffy is living in Chicago as a P.I. The arrival of a man from her past will disrupt her new life and reveal an insidious evil. B/S eventually. Chapter 3 added.
1. Chapter 1

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Angel Eyes

By jaepdbt

Disclaimer: Buffy characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, et al. Rest are mine.

Author's Note: I've been to Chicago and the Chicago area a few times, but I don't know much about the city itself. Therefore, I have taken liberties with certain locations, and the city I have created my bear only superficial resemblance to the actual city.

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"Bow down piper leading, you were one.

Hungry, took the prize, then you got dumb.

Don't live out your life like a sad song.

Sprung, hypnotized by light, had to get some.

Get it all

She said I forgive you, You must too or die

You've got to let me go.

Angel Eyes, Four years and still I dream

Agonize, Such beauty not since seen."

Jerry Cantrell

Chapter 1

Tuesday, November 14, 2006 11:30 pm

The Joint was one of Chicago's most popular dance clubs. The type where reverb caused overpriced drinks to slosh out of their glasses, where the young and beautiful were packed as tightly as comfort and fire codes allowed, and where vampires stalked for their evening meal. It was designed with a huge, square dance floor in the center and slightly below the rest of the bar. On the North end of the dance floor, raised above its ruckus, was the DJ/Light show control booth. Opposite that, and also on the ground level was the main bar area. There, sitting at a table overlooking the mass of humanity below, sat a man without a heartbeat, a man without a soul, a man who wasn't really a man at all. A vampire.

This had long been one of Darryl's favorite hunting grounds. Tonight, he was just looking to get lost in the crowd…and maybe find a get the hell out of town treat. His hair was dyed a midnight black and slicked with enough gel that is was mirror like. His clothes were as black as his hair, a silk button down shirt with the top two buttons undone, black jeans, socks, and shoes. His wiry body oozed an aggressive sexuality that had never failed him in the past. He hoped that trend would continue. 

For the last five years of his existence, Darryl had lived the good life. He worked for Chicago's demon kingpin Pinder Gast supplying Mr. Gast's demon bars, casinos, and bordellos with blood and other bodily fluids. In exchange, he was given a license for unlimited hunting in the city, a privilege granted to fewer and fewer demons these days. Life was perfect, until his supplier dried up, literally. Darryl's top competitor, another vampire named Cipher, ate him, but he couldn't prove it. In retaliation, Darryl started raiding his competitor's deliveries, during one of which, he was caught red handed. This type of tête-à-tête was not acceptable in the eyes of the Big Boss. Darryl knew he needed to leave Chicago before Mr. Gast's executioner found him, but instead, he decided he needed beautiful young girl first.

Now, he sipped a vodka martini looking for a good candidate. His muddy eyes landed on a small, slim blond girl gyrating on the dance floor. She was dressed to kill, a barely there black dress that left little to the imagination and men slobbering fools. Darryl was drawn to her, watching her for several minutes as the woman danced suggestively with an endless line of men, all left blue balled by the young beauty. The vampire felt the combination of bodily and blood lust surge forward, and cause him to head to the floor himself. 'Maybe I can pick up a traveling companion as well as a meal,' he thought to himself.

He approached her as a new song began. His predatory blue eyes locked with her hazel ones, as she stalked over to him. They danced, oh, they danced. If there was an inch between her sweaty body and his cool one, there was a mile. Her body pressed to his in all the right places, and his nether regions rapidly grew and hardened. As one of her grinding dance moves moved against this, she gave Darryl a knowing smirk.

Then, suddenly, the song was over, the woman, smirk still in place, took his hand and lead the vampire from the dance floor, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. As they reached the top of the steps, she stood on her toes to whisper in Darryl's ear, "Let me get my coat and we can go someplace more…private." With a devilish smile, she turned and head towards the coat check. "Don't go anywhere," she called.

Darryl didn't think he could move if his unlife depended on it. This vixen was picking _him_ up. That thought brought on a smirk of his own, knowing he could have his way with this hot little number. What a way to leave town.

She came back, her dress now covered with a long black leather duster. Out of one pocket, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The goddess light one and sashayed her way back to Darryl. She slid next to him, taking his arm and headed for the exit. "My name's Joan, what's yours?" After Darryl replied, he thought he noticed a feral glint in her eye, but by the time she brought her smoke up for another drag, it was gone.

Joan silently smoked as the pair made their way through The Joint's crowded bar. Once outside, she glommed her body even closer to his and said, "I've always had a thing about fucking in alleys, whaddya say we give it a go." Her words were accentuated by puffs of smoke form her cigarette, now cast aside, and were followed by a casual stroke of the vampires crotch.

Darryl's eyes crossed, and he had to struggle to keep his true face from coming forward. He could smell the arousal dripping from this gorgeous woman before him, and needed no further encouragement. He roughly grabbed her arm again, raced to the nearest ally, and flung Joan against the wall. Her eyes locked with his just before he plundered her mouth, mining for the gold inside. Darryl lost himself in the passion of the moment, and after noticing her lack of underwear quickly moved to finish the deed.

As he reached his peak, Darryl vamped out and moved to claim the woman before her, make her one of his kind. However, he was caught with his pants down, literally, when Joan head butted him and with supernatural quickness switched their positions. A wooden stake appeared in her hand, seemingly from nowhere. "Hmm…stupid vampires, always have to have a post-coital bite. You've been a bad boy," she said as she wagged a finger at the reeling vampire.

Darryl struggled underneath her iron grip, but was unable to move himself. "What are you, a slayer?"

"Used to be, now I have a more profitable career, hunting down Mr. Gast's little problems." Darryl vamp face receded as he felt fear for the first time since he was turned.

"You're the Executioner."

"You know, I always thought that was a dumb name. I mean really, can't you demons be a little more creative," Joan huffed. "Anyways, you know the consequences for stealing from Mr. Gast. Ordinarily, I might make it last awhile, a little torture, starve you, but that sounds like an awful lot of work. Plus, I got a little action tonight, so I'm in a good mood."

With that, Darryl leaned back his head and resigned himself to his fate. As he turned to dust, he wished he'd paid more attention to the stories about the woman who was his ending.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 11:15 am

A long wisp of smoke rose from the half-finished cigarette propped in the large crystal ashtray. Across the poorly light office, the well-worn duster hung on the coat rack next to the door. The walls of the office were covered with the tools of its occupant's trade, battle-axes, knives, and other assorted weaponry. Before the desk was a pair of hard wooden chairs for the rare client visit. On the desk itself was a computer surrounded by file folders in various states of disarray. The only hints of personality were an ashtray overflowing with spent butts and a picture of a smiling, young, brown-haired woman. The frame identified her as Dawn.

Buffy Summers took the cigarette and brought it to her lightly painted lips and took a deep drag. Hazel eyes framed by shoulder-length blonde hair looked down at the case file on the desk in front of her. She sighed, exhaling the smoke from her lungs, and turned back to the computer. The paperwork on last night's job was almost done. Buffy needed only to send out the update on her screen, and then get on with the business of this day.

Just as she sent out the file, she heard the office door open followed by the familiar thuds of her partner's heavy boots. Buffy smiled as she crushed out her cigarette and called out the massive demon, "Curtis, can you come in here for a second."

"Hey Buff, successful night?" Curtis cheerily replied, entering the office and taking a seat in front of Buffy's desk. The excessively skinned demon set his ever-present bag of snacks in the other chair. "No problems I assume?"

"Nope, pretty simple job. That's one thing about vamps, especially the male ones, they're real easy to entrap." Buffy smirked at Curtis, who responded with a small grin and a nod of his head. She knew there was no way she could have survived in Chicago if it wasn't for Curtis. When Buffy left Sunnydale behind, Clem had called up his cousin to help her set up a new life. She came here with nothing but her slayer strength and her sister. Now, over four years later, their investigation business allowed Buffy to support herself, pay Dawn's tuition, and provide Curtis with all the snacks he needed.

When they started B & C Investigators, it dealt exclusively with human clientele. Curtis was Buffy's primary trailer. He had the patience to stake out a client's house, or follow them around to investigate their extracurricular activities. Buffy was the front person. She met with the clients and did any necessary interviews. They were struggling to get by with cases, mostly marital infidelities, lost and stolen items, and the like, but B & C Investigators really took off when Curtis hooked them up to Pinder Gast. Now, ninety percent of their work was for Pinder and his organization. However, they still had a few _real_ clients, to keep up appearances.

"So how'd your assignment go last night? Catch him back there again?" Buffy inquired about one of those few _real_ cases they had.

"Yep, Jimbo is definitely keeping this girl on the side." Curtis replied a sadly knowing look crossing his face. "I know how much you love nailing these bastards."

Buffy frowned, obviously remembering something unpleasant, "It's just that it pisses me off when a guy says he loves you, and he goes and sleeps with another woman. Guys like that need to be thrown in a vamp nest without a stake."

"Buffy, sweetie, you really need to let go of all your bitterness. I mean, your aura is really dark and all this brooding can't be good for the soul." Curtis's new mission in life was to get his best friend back in the dating game. Though she never said anything about it to him, the demon could smell the vampires she fucked/killed all over her and was becoming concerned that his best friend would never be happy again. Dawn had told him she had a plan, but Curtis was going to do his part in encouraging her.

"Hey, it's not my fault all men are pigs. Besides, men aren't looking for run down slayers with a decade of back-breaking baggage in potential girlfriends," Buffy retorted defensively. 

"Well, if it means anything, I'd date you, but you're not really my type. Thin, skinless, and human, eeww!" Curtis laughed.

Laughing, Buffy responded, "Yeah, well, if you weren't a fat, ugly, demon, I'd feel the same way." 

She paused to light another cigarette, as her face again turned serious. "So what's on your agenda for today?"

Curtis frowned as he contemplated the unpleasantness ahead of him. "I'm supposed to meet with Harold today about a job." Harold was the difficult son, and heir, to demon boss Pinder Gast. He currently operated as consigliore of the organization, and as such, was usually the one handing out marching orders to B & C Investigators. "Have you ever figured what exactly _is_ rammed up his ass?"

Buffy gave her partner as rueful smile and ashed her cigarette while responding. "Near as I can tell, the boy is just the slightest bit jealous about me becoming daddy's favorite agent. Harry's got a little bit of snobbishness in him about demons mixing only with their own kind and all. Maybe there's something more, but I've never been able to figure it."

Curtis shrugged and moved to get up, grabbing his snacks, "Well I don't want to keep his spoiledness waiting. I'll see you later tonight."

"Yeah, good luck, and don't let him get on your case too much."

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 4:30 pm

Buffy escorted Mrs. Herzog out of her office. The woman had spent the past twenty minutes crying and carrying on after receiving confirmation that her husband was cheating on her. Though she had comforted her as best she could, Buffy was glad to be rid of the woman. After all, there was no good reason to get all weepy about man following his dick, 'as they all eventually do,' she thought to herself. A better response would be some righteous indignation, and maybe a little midnight scissors action.

Buffy came back to her desk and slumped into her chair. She lit a smoke and glanced at her watch. "Well, at least Dawnie will be here soon, so I can get out of here." She turned to her computer to check her email when she heard her younger sister enter the small office.

"Hey Buff, how was work today?" the perky young woman asked. Then noticing the burning cancer stick added, "And put that disgusting thing out while you're answering."

With a sigh, Buffy complied, "There, happy now."

"Well, I'll only really be happy when you quit those things completely," pointing at the ashtray, "but you already know that, so tell me about your day."

"Oh, you know, same demons, different day. Add one weeping woman and you have a typical Buffy party. How was school?"

Dawn was a sophomore at Northwestern University. Buffy knew her sister had gotten the brains in her family, and was extremely proud that she had gotten into such a good school. After a moment of thought, Dawn replied, "Oh, you know, the usual. Professors enamored with the sound of their voice yammering on about this and that." Both women chuckled at her description of college life. "We started _Divine Comedy_ today in my Dante class. I mean, reading about what hell is like, even after living on its mouth for years, is kinda fun."

"Yeah, but most of what he wrote is bull shit anyways. I mean, I've been to heaven and its nothing like how he had it," Buffy teased.

"Well then, I'll just have to stop reading then. I mean why bother if it's all, as you say, bull shit. Ooh, or maybe I could write my paper as a blow by blow refutation of him based on a personal interview with someone who was there?"

Buffy tried to give her sister a disapproving glare, but couldn't help descending into giggles. "That would definitely be the paper to get you thrown into the loony bin, where you belong I might add." Buffy smiled at her sister, glad to have her brightening her day. "You wanna join me for dinner?"

"Sorry, I've got a group project I have to work on tonight, so I ate before I got here. But, I have a better idea," Dawn paused to heighten the drama. "You come out with me on Friday!"

Buffy closed her eyes as she began to respond, "Dawn, you know I don't want to be a extra wheel. Besides, I'll probably be hunting some rouge vampire nest or something." As soon as she said it, Buffy knew that lame excuse would never get her sister off her back.

Dawn stuck out her lower lip in a pout, "But Buffy, it would be really fun, and you wouldn't be an extra wheel 'cause I've got somebody I want you to meet." Dawn smiled brightly as she began her plan to help her sister out of her doldrums.

Buffy, horrified, "Oh no, you are so not setting me up with some guy. All by myself is just fine, thank you."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Its been two years, you really need to move on, besides, this guy is really nice, and perfect for you. I just know you'll hit it off. Please." Dawn resorted to begging.

With another sigh, something Buffy did far too often of late in Dawn's opinion, she acquiesced. "First Curtis harasses me this morning to go back into dating, now you. I think I smell a conspiracy." Buffy harrumphed. "Fine, I'll go on your little date, but I'm not promising anything."

Dawn jumped up in glee, ran around the desk, and hugged her sister, "You so won't regret this, and it definitely _is_ a conspiracy. A conspiracy to get you laid!" As she disengaged herself from Buffy, Dawn glanced at her watch, not noticing Buffy's frown at the last comment. "Oh crap, I'm gonna be late. Sorry to hug and run, but we'll talk more about it at home." She again hugged her sister, grab the backpack she set on the floor upon entering the office and ran off with a skip in her step, leaving Buffy in dumbfounded shock.

The plan was going perfectly. As soon as Dawn exited the building, she pulled out her cell phone. The number she wanted was already programmed in, and she quickly initiated the call. The other end picked up after two rings, "Hey, its me. When are you getting into town?…Good, we're on for Friday….No, I didn't tell her it was you, though I still think it would be better if she knew….Hey, you don't need to shout, we're still doing it your way….Right, Holiday Inn in Evanston. I'll meet you there Thursday night to go over things….Don't worry Spike, everything will go great."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to those who are taking the time to read my story, I hope you are enjoying it. The song at the end is "Save You" by Pearl Jam, owned entirely by that band. I've also added a time/date for each scene just for clarity's sake.

Previously: Buffy's partner Curtis has a meeting with Harold Gast. Dawn has set up a date between Spike and an unsuspecting Buffy.

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Chapter Three

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 5:30 pm

The office always unnerved Curtis. Harold Gast designed the place to intimidate and unsettle. It was huge, the size of a fast food restaurant with a décor that featured gruesome pictures of death and implements of it. This contrasted with the finery of elegantly made furniture and plush carpeting. Curtis sat in a finely crafted wood chair that was too small for a grown man, much less an oversized demon. Of course, Mr. Gast's chair was almost throne size. In the opinion of the investigator, this all just showed Harry's desire to prove he was the big bad he dreamed of being.

Another part of the strategy to intimidate guests was to make them sit in this office, alone, for as long as possible. Thus, Curtis had been waiting for upwards of a half-hour when Harold finally deigned to enter. With a curt nod and a handshake for the loose-skinned demon before him, he sat at the huge oak desk. To an ordinary observer, the consigliore looked like an ordinary human, and much like his father, he used this to his advantage when dealing in human circles. It was all a deception, a glamour put forth by the demon's innate camouflaging ability. What their true form was, Curtis never knew, but the appearance of humanity was close enough to give him shivers.

Harold peered intently at the investigator, still yet to say a word. The young demon's wavy, dark brown hair was in its usual unkempt style, a striking contrast to his crisply cut suit and emotionless expression. He sat back in this throne with his hands quietly folded on his lap waiting.

Finally, Curtis could stay silent no longer and began, "Well, what did you need form the Buffster and me?"

"We are expecting an up tick in business heading your way in the coming weeks," a cultured, _almost_ snobbish voice answered. "Our mage has been working on a new spell that tracks vampires entering a certain area. In order to weed out the uncouth vagabonds in our city, we will be sending you information to track said vampires. You will submit a report based on their activities and my office will decide whether they merit a place in our fine city. If they do, the organization will find one. If not," Harold paused for drama and smirked, "the Executer will have some more business."

Curtis took in what Harold said, trying to work over the consequences of this bombshell. "May I say, sir, that's incredible, but it's gonna be a lot of work, Mr. Gast. I mean how many vamps come into town in one day? And I have to track them all?"

"Well you could have your precious _Buffy_ help out, though I doubt she would lower herself to something so mundane," Gast bit back snidely. "After all, trailing isn't duty fit for a human. Pshaw."

Restraining himself from an equally snide response, Curtis merely nodded, knowing it better to argue with Harold about Buffy. "So how does this new spell dealy work? Does it involve three psychics unconscious in a pool?"

"How it works is none of your concern, but it will provide us with a better way of tracking the undead in our city. Furthermore, it will alert us beforehand to any possible…destabilizing forces."

"And when do I get my first case?" Curtis asked warily, hoping not to have to miss _West Wing_ tonight, Rob Lowe was coming back.

"I'll email our information over tomorrow. All you need to do is track them down, observe, and report back. My office will handle the rest," Gast offered with a wave of a hand. "B & C will be paid at its normal rate."

"Anything else Mr. Gast?"

"That is all for now. I look forward to the results you produce in this matter, I know _you_ won't let me down." Harold rose and offered his hand to Curtis who took it, then turned to leave. "And don't forget to keep your bitch of a boss in her place."

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 7:30 pm

Chris smiled, looking around the library study room, "So are we agreed? We're ready?"

The other three members of the group matched his smile and nodded, but his eyes immediately focused on the only person in the room he cared to notice. "Yep! Now we can act like real college students and blow off the rest of our homework to party!" Dawn grinned mischievously, gathering her papers and books sloppily.

They had worked for two hours on their _The Waste Land_ presentation, and now they were ready to present tomorrow. Dawn clearly was in a celebratory mood.

"Maybe some other time guys," Marsha said, begging out, likewise collecting her things.

Mark similarly declined, leaving Dawn to stare expectantly at Chris.

He had been infatuated with the perky young girl from the first day of the semester when she bound into their American literature class and sat next to him, _him_ of all people. Chris had never been popular with the ladies. Average height, average weight, average looks, he was never one to attract interest. That this vision would even talk to him was beyond his ability to reason, and now, here he was with the possibility of spending a night out with her! When her smile began to fall, Chris realized he'd been zoning out again and hadn't given her a response. "I'm game."

The smile she gave him nearly caused him to faint. Tonight, tonight was the night he would finally tell her how he felt.

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 10:15 pm

The red 2003 Ford Mustang Mach 1 raced its way up I-90 into Chicago. It had been a long haul driving in from Cleveland, but finally, Spike was in the same city as the Slayer for the first time in four years. Looking back, Spike could hardly recognize himself as the vamp that peeled out of Sunnydale on a stolen motorcycle in May of 2002. The hair that had been bleached white was now a more natural sandy blonde. The motorcycle, the old De Soto, ditched for his current sporty number. He dressed in all black no longer, but had a large and varied wardrobe. All those exterior changes though, paled in comparison to the addition of his pesky soul.

He had spent the past four years going the route of his poofy grandsire, fighting the good fight. Unlike Angel, Spike located himself on the Hellmouth, not the one Buffy had abandoned four years past, the memories there were too painful. No not Sunnydale but one with a less hospitable climate, Cleveland. The mystical activity there kept him busy most of the time, which was a good thing. Not when the alternative was brooding over the unbearable guilt of one and a quarter centuries of death and destruction or his attack on the only good thing that ever happened in his existence.

People had drifted in and out of his life during his time on the Hellmouth, but none could replace his North Star, his muse, his everything, his Buffy. When he had found out she had left Sunnydale without a trace, he had despaired that he would never see her again, but he vowed to look. After two years, he had finally found an email address for Dawn. It had taken some convincing to get her to talk to him, but after much begging and groveling, and after she found out about his soul, the Nibblet had resumed her close friendship with the vampire. She had even come to visit him on Spring Break last year when Buffy had thought her in Cancun.

They had talked about her dreams and her life, about college and its demands, but Dawn refused to talk much about Buffy. Dawn was clear that even if she was willing to trust Spike around her, she was not ready to trust him with Buffy. So, little was said, and little was asked until just two months ago. Dawn called him and asked if he would like to see Buffy again. Two months of scheming and planning were finally coming to fruition, and Spike's exile from the Summers family was coming to an end.

As he crossed the city limits, he started singing and thumping his fingers to the song now blasting on the radio. 

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And I'm not living this life without you; I'm selfish and clear

And you're not leaving here without me, I don't wanna be without 

My best…Friend…Wake up, to see you could have it all.

Yes, things were starting to look up.


End file.
